


Freefall

by FantasiainDminor



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Bad Communication, Dave Grohl exists in the danganronpa universe because I said so, Dave Grohl is a famous drummer, Drinking, M/M, Minor Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko, No Communication, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Smoking, invisible underwear, only in the first chapter tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29370216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasiainDminor/pseuds/FantasiainDminor
Summary: Snapshots of Souda and Gundham’s relationship after graduation. Set in a world with no Despair and no killing games. I’ll be honest, the first chapter is kinda shit, but I really like how the rest turned out, so try to make it through the first part or just jump ahead!(Unfinished, and idk when or if I will ever finish it.)
Relationships: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham
Comments: 11
Kudos: 19





	1. The Prologue (feel free to skip it sucks compared to the others, or have fun and good luck)

**Author's Note:**

> A song fic in 2021? More likely than you would think! This started as a self indulgent challenge but I rather like how it turned out.  
> Song: Freefall by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

It was the end of a long day at work in the garage for Souda. He had to present something to the board tomorrow morning to maintain his place in the program. It was just a basic quarterly check in, but he still felt the pressure, and had been working all weekend in the garages to finish his project piece.

After finishing the last test, Souda turned off his music and stretched his aching muscles. Even though his creation was completed, he was still worried over its performance tomorrow. He didn’t want another incident like the motorized chalk marker that drove clear off campus.

The sun had just begun to set, and to treat himself for finishing before dark, he decided to go have a smoke. It was something he rarely took indulgence in. He knew how bad it was for him, and Mikan even went so far as to  _ accidentally _ drop both herself and a few pamphlets in front of him when someone caught him smoking outside the garages one time. 

To hopefully stop any more unfortunate slip falls by Mikan, and prying eyes, he now went to the roof. 

After having to jimmy open the lock to the roof access door, he didn’t expect anyone to be up there. Least of all Gundham Tanaka.

The Ultimate Breeder was sitting casually on the top of the ledge, the edge of his coat and purple scarf lazily flapping in the wind. 

Gundham’s incessant bickering with Souda had petered out over the year, and while he didn’t expect to see Gundham up on the roof, he could definitely think of worse people to accidentally run into. 

“Hey Tanaka!” Souda called out as he shoved the door closed behind him. Gundham didn’t respond.  _ That’s a bit rude _ , Souda thought. 

Nonetheless, he walked over to where Gundham was seated. He came up here to relax, no use going anywhere else on the roof and standing in awkward silence. 

However, when Souda finally reached Gundham, the latter still made no movement to acknowledge his presence. Souda was about to comment on how childish the silent treatment was, but something caught his eye— or, at least, a lack of something did.

“Where are the devas?” He expected at least Maga-Z to poke his head out of Gundham’s scarf and snarl at him, but the purple fabric was uncharacteristically still. Infact, everything about Gundham seemed uncharacteristic.

There was no trace of the pompous air that Gundham usually carried himself with. He sat with his feet dangling over the edge of the roof, back slumped and resting with his elbows on his legs. His profile was cold and apathetic. 

“Uhhh, you okay?” Souda asked.

“I called to the devil.”

Kazuichi didn’t really know how to respond. “And?”

“... the devil did come.”

That didn’t really make things any clearer. He thought Gundham might clarify, but he did not.

“Uhh,” Souda scratched his cheek, “well, uh, what did ya say?” He might as well play along.

Gundham chuckled, just a glimmer of his usual bravado. “I said,” he began with minimal but still present theatrics, “Devil, do you like drums?” 

What the hell was this guy on about?! Still, Souda didn’t want to just leave the guy, he was clearly going through  _ something  _ with the way he was just staring off into the distance. Souda fiddled with the pack of cigarettes in his hand, “do you like cigarettes?” Might as well offer.

Gundham made the faintest of dismissive waves and responded, “Dominos… Rum,” in the same way one would say ‘ _ tomaytoe, tomahtoe’.  _ Souda was really beginning to wonder if he was on something. Not that Gundham  _ usually  _ made any sense, but this was on another level of detached-from-reality.

Souda lit up and stared out at the view. It was pretty shitty as far as views go. The sun was setting on the opposite side of the building, and there was nothing but a back alley this way. 

“Alright, so you asked the guy if he liked drums, what did he say? Were you trying to find out if Dave Grohl sold his soul to him or something?” Souda laughed to try and lighten the mood. He couldn’t understand why Gundham would be interested in drumming, but surely he could have just talked to Ibuki, couldn’t he? 

When Gundham’s voice came out watery and choked, Souda almost dropped his cigarette. 

“He said only sundown, Sundays… Christmas.” This last part was barely a whisper that almost got carried away in the wind.

“Woah, woah hey now!” But Gundham suddenly curled within himself, disappearing within his many layers. 

From within the bundle of coat and scarf Gundham was hiding in, Souda could hear his strained voice muffle out, “Somedays end and... I need a few friends now and again, but I can never hope to keep them!” He sounded so frustrated, so broken. Souda did not come prepared for this situation.

Not knowing what else to do, Souda put a tentative hand on Gundham’s back. He knew the guy didn’t like being touched but what else was he supposed to do? He didn’t like seeing Gundham like this, he was supposed to be spewing nonsense like he was a deranged Shakespearean actor or something, not huddled in a ball on the roof of one of their school building. Even though whatever he was saying didn’t make much sense to Souda, it still wasn’t his usual script of oddities. Gundham sounded so real, so human, and Souda didn’t know what to do. So he just kept his hand on the back of Gundham’s coat, not heavy, but solid enough to be there, and waited awkwardly for him to either start crying or come out from his turtle shell.

It was an uncomfortable amount of time, but soon enough Gundham unfurled, sniffing, perhaps trying to play it off as just the chill in the air. His red-rimmed eyes scanned outward like he might find answers hiding along the treetops or in the dumpsters below. “I thought to give friends what I  _ thought _ that they wanted.” he said weakly, but the look on Gundham’s face slowly turned dark and he spat out his next words with poison, “Never have they needed a good friend as I’ve been.” 

Something seemed to have clicked into place and Souda leaned against the ledge. He sighed as he flicked the ash falling from the end of his cigarette. “Don’t get  _ me _ venting on friends who resent you.” For the first time since coming to the roof, Gundham turned his attention towards Souda. 

The mechanic thought of all the terrible ‘ _ friends’  _ he had met in his life. He turned his voice to make it sound like he was mocking one of them, “‘ _ All you’ve ever been is a noose to hang on to.’ _ ”

There was a wet chuckle from next to him. “That they thought was a necklace,” Gundham continued finding it funny in only a way someone who had experienced it could, “and recklessly fell into hell, where you both hang. Nothing to do but scratch, kick,...” Gundham looked back down where his feet dangling over the side of the building, “let gravity win.”

Cold water washed over Souda. His cigarette fell out of his hand over the ledge.

It fell, almost weightless, down, down, into the empty alley below.

Gundham let out a large distainful laugh “like  _ FUCK THIS!  _ Let gravity win!” Even though the cry had come out of Gundham’s mouth like an explosion, the wind swallowed it up whole and carried it away. His bitter energy seemed to have left him as soon as it came and he slumped back down again. “Could leave it all behind. Even the devil need time alone sometimes.” 

Souda grabbed his shoulder and leveled Gundham with wide eyes. He’s just joking, surely, Souda was reading into Gundham’s wild speech patterns too deeply, it must be some metaphor. But Souda couldn’t remember a single time he had heard Gundham talk so informally and it made his stomach drop clear to his feet.

There was neither ice nor flame in Gundham’s eyes when he turned to Souda. 

His brain was stalling, he couldn’t think of anything to say. What could you say in moments like these that would amount to anything more than empty words? So Souda hugged him. Hoping whatever message he was trying to convey would come across if he only squeezed tight enough.

“You can let it all go,” he found himself saying, and Souda didn’t know if they were the right words or not but Gundham clutched on to his coveralls. He seemed to be almost trembling, like a pipe that was about to burst open and release steam. “You can let it all go…” 

And he did. Souda stayed there holding on to Gundham as he cried, as the sun finally slipped behind the horizon, as the chill of the evening set in and what was once cast in gold were only shapes in the night.

\---

“It’s called: freefall.” 

They were drunk. 

They had somehow both made it through highschool, graduating as Ultimates and on their way to try and live up to their titles. It was daunting, and stressful, so they decided to get away from it for an evening and try to pretend they were just normal college kids.    
Gundham was opening up about a time long ago, back in their second year of highschool, where Souda had found him on the roof. They never really talked about the incident after it happened, but their friendship had gotten its first firm foothold up there, and they were quite close friends now. 

“It’s called:  _ free _ fall.” 

Souda took that in. Gundham had assured him that he was not seriously considering anything that day, but he knew from experience that thoughts like that don’t just go away, even after you feel better. He wondered if Gundham still dealt with it like he did. 

The round-about way Gundham had phrased it years ago really stuck in his head. Felt easier than just saying it out-right. He figured over the years that Gundham’s speech pattern was likely for this reason. Before he could decide whether it was a bad idea or not, his mouth had already started talking. “I called to the devil.” 

“And the devil did come?” Gundham surmised. 

Souda laughed to himself, “Haha, no, no. You wanna know what he said though? He said ‘Quit!’” Souda threw up his arms to emphasize his point,“‘Can’t be bothered! Better handle your shit!’” Cause that’s how it was. The world  _ didn’t _ care about you, it isn’t bothered one way or another. Whether you live or you die, the world will just keep turning. No one is going to take care of your shit for you, you have to do that yourself. 

Gundham nodded as he mulled this over, then asked Souda to refill his drink. Their conversations drifted to lighter topics, and they enjoyed a night away from it all. 


	2. The Party

The cicadas and heat were relentless this summer. Souda had made his way to a nearby vending machine to get something to cool down. Who would he happen to find sitting around the corner but the one and only Gundham Tanaka himself. 

Life had been busy this past year. Plans to hang out always seemed to be interrupted by this or that. Meeting Gundham by chance made Souda nervous and happy in equal measure. 

He was sitting against the wall in the shade, eyes closed, a sweating bottle of green tea in his hands. He had let his hair grow out, Souda noticed, and it was pulled up into a small bun, likely due to the heat. 

Souda didn’t even realize he might have been creeping up on him or staring till Gundham’s brow furrowed and peaked an eye open in his direction. The bottle of green tea went flying and Gundham scrambled onto his feet.

“KEEP ABOUT YOUR WITS!” 

“Man, keep about  _ your _ wits!! No need to get so startled, you nearly freaked me out as well!” 

Gundham collected himself and sat back down as Souda bought his regular from the machine.

The sounds of the street and summer cicadas filled the silence while the sun continued to beat down. 

“It’s good to see you, been a while hasn’t it?” Souda said while opening his drink. “Uhh, how’ve you been?”

“Ahh, know yourself and who you came in with.” Gundham replied as if it were a commonplace idiom. “How are  _ you _ my tumultuous mechanic?” 

Souda thought about it. “Busy.” That seems to always be the answer these days. “Can I sit down? I’ve been hustlin’ all day.” 

Gundham moved over so there was a seat next to him in the shade. He leaned his head back against the wall as he agreed with Soudas sentiment, “I can't even count how many souls I’ve made”

_ … well he is the ultimate breeder afterall…  _

Souda sat down but soon felt a tug underneath him. 

“Off.” Gundham commanded. Souda hadn’t realized he was sitting on Gundham’s scarf because it wasn’t around his neck. It was now something of a pocket handkerchief, fashioned to Gundham’s belt. He lifted a butt cheek so Gundham could pull it out from under him. 

The jacket too must have been repurposed or otherwise left behind, because Gundham had shed his many layers like a cocoon and appeared only in a black tunic style t-shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. Where he once had his arm wrapped in bandages, there was now a tattoo, of what Souda couldn’t quite tell, but he figured he shouldn’t be staring anyways.    
“Uhh, hows Sonia?” 

“The same.” They both watched the road lazily as they cooled off in the shade. “I have heard tell of a reunion for our class. Quite small, we all seem to be rather tied up, but for those who can attend.” 

A reunion? The thought of seeing all his classmates succeeding after graduation while he was still just bouncing between shops and odd jobs made him almost sick. 

“Oh, I don’t know if I can really—”   
“If you cannot come all is well, but consider yourself indebted to me. It will surely be insufferable without your company.”

\---

The party wasn’t as terrible as Souda had worried. Hajime was hosting and after catching up it sounded like almost everyone was in similar positions as well; still trying to get their feet in the doors of opportunity without being exploited for their talents. 

Fuyuhiko and Peko had surprisingly been able to come, and Souda could almost physically see the stress lift off Fuyuhiko’s shoulders and a giant Kuzuryu grin split across his face when he set eye on Souda.

“Kazuichi! Ha ha! How are ya doin ya old bastard!” While Fuyuhiko couldn’t be specific about what he was up to, he assured Souda that he was in minimal danger and doing well. 

“Doing  _ very _ well,” Souda commented later to Gundham.

“Whatever are you implying?” Gundham smirked back.

“Oh come on, they are totally fucking.” The two watched as Peko uncharacteristically burst into laughter over Fuyuhiko’s losing shot in the game of beer pong they were playing. Peko started clearing the table and Fuyuhiko grumbled about the unfair advantage of depth perception while fiddling with the strap of his eyepatch.

“Come on,” Souda finished the last of the beer in his hands, “let’s play.”

Gundham stirred the fruity drink he had been nursing, “I see no purpose in such a tasteless game.” 

“Uhhh, it’s to get drunk.” Souda countered.

“Hardly a reason to play,” Gundham dismissed, “I can think of much more efficient ways to accomplish the same task,” he pulled a face, “and better beverages with which to do so.” 

“Alright then what does it take to get the Supreme Overlord of Ice Gundham Tanaka to play a round of beer pong?” Their banter felt like pulling on an old sweatshirt and the use of his old self proclaimed title had Gundham groaning and hiding his face in his palm. 

“How regrettable... “ He sighed, “a proper duel must have stakes worthy of fighting for; something for each party to gain or lose. Without as much, it is pointless; a waste of time and skill.” 

“I think you just know you’ll lose without your little hamsters to do all your work for ya.”

Gundham’s solo cup crinkled in his grip. “I have no qualms about winning my friend, I simply do not see any enjoyment to gain out of such a ridiculously  _ easy _ task as bouncing a tiny ball into a plastic cup.” The last ‘p’ popped right in Soudas face.

“Okay, you lose and you have to run down the street in your skivvies. How does that do for your fighting spirit?” Souda didn’t give him time to object as he started making his way towards the table.

Gundham grabbed his wrist and yanked Souda back. There was a blush high on his cheek bones as he looked away; demeanor changed in an instant. “Find something else.” 

A vague memory tickled the back of Soudas mind, a rumor that had drifted through Hope's Peak their second year, one of ludicrous  _ invisible underwear _ . Soudas mouth curled into a Cheshire grin. “Surely you shouldn’t be so worried if it really is such an  _ easy _ task as bouncing a tiny ball into a plastic cup?” He goaded, popping the ‘p’ with even more gusto. Gundham’s grip got stronger along with his blush.

“Your time,” he finally got out between grinding teeth. He cleared his throat and began again a little louder, “If I win, you must give unto me an evening’s worth of your time within the week.”   
Souda thought dismally of his looming to do list and his mood came crashing down. “Dude, I don’t know, I’m—”   
“Busy. I know.” Gundham didn’t let go of his wrist and pulled him towards the pong table. “If you are truly as devoted to your work as you say, you will surely best me.”

“Yeah? And what do I get out of it?”

Gundham looked at him quizzically from across the table, “You did not need incentive to begin with. I assumed merely playing was reward enough for you, am I mistaken?” 

The sound of Peko’s giggle drifted into their conversation, and inspiration struck. “Loser has to ask Kuzuryu if he’s banged Peko yet!”

If Gundham had eyebrows, they would be in his hairline now. “Quite the stakes indeed. Tell me, are you prepared to die this evening?”

“Oh, I don’t plan on losing buddy. Deal?”

“Hmmm an evening of your time  _ and _ getting to see you strangled by the Ultimate Yakyuza? Fortune certainly has me in her favors… You’re on.” Gundham finished setting up his cups at the other end of the table, “Ah, but Kazuichi, just remember,” Gundham inspected the ping pong ball, looked up, and  _ winked _ , “the devil ain't a friend to no one.”

Needless to say, Gundham did not win. 

After trying, and failing, to make a silent escape, he settled on asking Peko instead, which wasn’t much better. Souda and Gundham were now collapsed panting in an alley after high tailing it out of there (to the best of their drunken ability) to avoid getting run through by Peko’s sword. Wooden or not, she wasn’t the Ultimate Swordstress for nothing. 

“That was madness!” Gundham wheezed.

Souda laughed between his breaths. “But fun!”

“True!” Gundahm admitted with a laugh. He looked over at Souda with a twinkle in his eye, strands of his hair falling loose from his bun, out of breath, and grinning from ear to ear. It was a sight rare to see and Souda took in every detail before Gundham eventually looked away. 

They sat there for a little while, catching their breath and looking at the night sky. Still fuzzy from drinking he lolled his head over to look at Gundham, only to find the Ultimate Breeder with his eyes closed and smiling lazily like he could fall asleep right there in the alley. 

Souda stood up, and extended his hand. “Come on, up ya go.” 

After gaining his balance, Gundham’s smile faded and he held a tension in his brow. “I… do not wish to return home.” Souda stared at him, their hands still clasped. “I had such a wonderful time with you this evening. Your company has been sorely missed.” 

Souda couldn’t find anything better to say than, “Oh.”

Gundham let out a shaky sigh, “Well, we must all return to our separate lives come the morning.” He released Soudas hand to run it through the fly-aways of his bun, trying to set them back in place, and perhaps, himself as well. Soudas mouth finally started to work. 

“My place isn’t too far from here, probably closer than wherever you’re staying right now. You could crash on my couch for tonight.”

There seemed to be some kind of internal battle within Gundham before he said, “No, no I should… I should…” Souda lightly took hold of his wrist and started walking. 

He was sobering up, but still held such a pleasant sense of warmth and comfort, and maybe that’s what helped him make the decision for Gundham. They walked in comfortable silence, an occasional car along the road to fill the space. 

By the time they reached Soudas apartment, he was back to normal and starting to feel self conscious. “Uh, it’s… I didn’t expect company, so pardon the mess.” He lifted up on the handle and gave the door a shove, slipping off his shoes as he closed it behind them.

Gundham sat down and stared at the buckles and laces of his boots with mild drunken confusion.

“You hungry?” Souda called making his way to the kitchen. “I can make us some,” He looked at his empty fridge, “uhh… toast?” he offered meekly.

Gundham’s voice came from the entryway, “Just a glass of water will suffice, thank you.”

When he came into the kitchen as well, Gundham had shaken his hair loose from it’s bun and was carding his hands through the locks. It had grown a fair bit, reaching just below his collarbone, the white streaks trailing all the way through. Souda must’ve still been a little tipsy because his face remained stubbornly flushed. 

“Ah, thank you, Kazuichi.” Gundham drained his glass and it was probably for the same reason Souda couldn’t unfocus his eyes from the way Gundham’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he drank. 

“Let me find you some… sheets.” Souda breathed out.

After finding some blankets and a spare pillow, Souda came back to Gundham still standing in his kitchen, spacing out.

“You okay buddy?” Without his boots, Gundham wasn’t nearly as tall and Souda thought it left entirely two little space between the two.    
“Oh, yes, merely” Gundham seemed to realize how close they were too, “lost in thought.” 

Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke, and neither of them breathed. Nothing was happening, but everything was happening and Soudas brain was a metronome bouncing rapidly between two options:  _ move, don't move, move, don't move, move.  _

_ You could let it all go. _

He let his breath go, to move in either direction he still wasn’t sure, but Gundham seemed to have made up his mind for both of them and closed the distance. 

It was soft, gentle, like both of them would shatter at any moment under the hands of the other. They stood there kissing slowly in Souda’s kitchen as he tried to quell his mind. _ Dad’s not here, you aren’t bad,  _ **_this_ ** _ isn’t bad, Dad’s not here, Dad’s not here. You can let it all go. _

A ball in his chest he had no recollection of winding suddenly came tumbling loose and he felt weightless. 

_ It’s called freefall _

They parted as gently as they started, still just as close. 

Gundham grabbed the pile of blankets from him without moving out of his space. “Thank you, Kazuichi.”

_ It’s called freefall _


	3. The Call

Souda’s thumb hovered over the call button. 

They kept in better touch after the reunion party at Hajime’s that summer. They found time in their busy schedules and met over lunch, over dinner, over drinks. Nights spent forgetting about all the worries of their professional lives. Gundham’s hair grew even longer, then cut short again. His face lost its roundness and settled somewhere between stately and ghoulish. Even though he traveled a lot for work, he found a permanent place nearby. Souda grew in some tasteful facial hair, and left the hair dye behind. He grew broader by the day, the lanky teenager replaced with the silhouette of a grown man. He tried not to think of his father when he looked in the mirror. Sometimes it worked. 

What happened in Souda’s kitchen had stayed there.

He thought of all the other unspoken moments in their friendship. The time he saw underneath Gundham’s bandages on accident, the time on the school roof, the time Gundham let him crawl in through the window and spend the night cause he was too afraid to go home to his dad. 

He wondered if he called now if the state he was in would be peacefully forgotten to the waves of time as it might’ve when they were younger. 

Nowadays these kinds of moments were brushed off even before they could happen. Even though they had made themselves a constant in each other's lives, it was like a plastic shield had been put up between them over time. They always said they were fine enough, played fake for one another knowing each had more than their fair share of shit to deal with to be bothered with more. Whenever they became too loose lipped, they said goodnight. No matter the time, they never stayed the night.

What it was about tonight he didn’t know. Maybe he was stressed, maybe he was just lonely. 

It was late, he shouldn’t call. It was silly, he shouldn’t call. He didn’t want to go home. He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t want to be alone, not tonight. He ran his free hand through his hair trying to stave off his panic as he tried to talk himself into turning around and going home. 

He swore and pressed the button; called to the devil, and after the 5th ring, the devil said:

“Hey,” Gundham’s voice was thick and raspy with sleep, “why are you calling this late, it’s like,” there was a rustling through the receiver, “2am.” Souda didn’t know whether he was filled with relief or regret.

He didn’t respond so Gundham continued, “surely not out drinking, the bars all close at 10 in Hell, that’s a rule I made.” He chuckled at his own made up joke. Souda still couldn’t get himself to say anything and Gundham’s tone quickly became concerned. “Kazuichi. Are you there? Are you alright?... Kazuichi!”

“Here. I’m here.” 

“Where’s here, are you alright?” 

Souda sheepishly looked up at the door in front of him. “Um, I’m  _ here _ , here... outside.” The line went silent. He heard a scuffle within Gundham’s apartment, the click of locks. He didn’t know whether he wanted to stay or bolt, but his feet were glued to the floor either way. 

The door was thrown open. It was silent, but Souda couldn’t meet Gundham’s eyes.

“In.” Then when Souda didn’t move, “Come.” Gundham ushered him inside and closed the door against the cold. 

Gundham’s place was warm, smelled of comfort with the lingering taste of whatever Gundham had cooked himself for dinner. 

“What ails you my friend?” Gundham pushed him farther into the house, squeezing his arms and rubbing warmth back into them through his jacket. “You are positively frozen and not dressed at all for the weather. Come, follow me.”

“Shoes,” he managed to mumble out.

“Damn the shoes, just come here!” He led Souda into his bedroom and sat him on the bed near the radiator. “How long were you out there? You are chilled all the way through. Here, you will warm faster without the jacket, let me help.” He let Gundham push off his jacket and set it over on the nightstand. His fingers burned like hellfire as they warmed back up. 

He felt Gundham sink into the bed next to him and let out a sigh. “You gave me a fright. I am glad you are here… Just one of those days?”

Souda nodded. ‘ _ Just one of those days’  _ was about as honest as either of them ever got about how they were doing lately.

“I’m sorry, it’s stupid I shouldn’t’ve—” 

“No. I will hear none of that.” He smoothed his hands down Souda’s shoulders. “I am glad you are here.”

Souda furled and unfurled his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry, I should have just gone home.”

“But you did not.” The soft smile in Gundham’s voice warmed him up even faster than the radiator. “Do you… wish to speak of it?”

Souda dazedly shook his head. There was nothing to speak about. 

“Well then, what is it you seek?” Souda tried to think of an answer but his mind turned to static at the probing thought. His lips stayed tight. Gundham sighed and the breath of it just barely teased the side of his neck. “Very well. Would you care for some tea? If nothing else it would help warm your hands.” As he said so, Gundham reached over and grasped Souda’s hands in his own, squeezing life back into them. Then brought them to his mouth to blow hot air.

The burning in the tips of his fingers traveled somewhere deep into his chest and Souda wretched his hands away. “They’re good,” he lied, “thank you.” 

He kept his eyes averted even as Gundham’s bore into him. 

Something in the air between them had turned acidic and it only made Souda retreat more into his own head. This had been a mistake, he should have just gone home, what was he doing here? 

Gundham pursed his lips and stood up, walking a few paces away from Souda only to turn back and snap, “We always do this! Just tell me what is going on, let me help you!” 

“Gundham, please.”

“I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is wrong! I am in the darkness here, let me in!”

“Yeah, cause you’ve always been so transparent yourself.” Souda bit back.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Does it matter? Look, just forget it, this was a mistake. Anyways, I should just go home.” Souda made to get his coat but Gundham grabbed the other end.

“I do not understand what has got you this way.  You  are the one who showed up here. I implore you just speak to me, you have come here for a reason!”

Souda groaned, “Just leave it be!” He gave his coat a tug but Gundham’s grip held firm and pulled him closer. This was going all kinds of wrong but Souda didn’t even know how it was supposed to go to be going right. 

“No. You do not need to face your problems on your own.”

“Like you’re any better! You’re too busy saving everybody else to save yourself!” Gundham set his jaw but didn’t say anything so Souda continued, “and you don’t want no help? Oh well!” 

“This is not about me, Kazuichi.”

“But it might as well be!” Souda gave one last tug and finally freed his coat.

He shucked it on where he stood and Gundham came around the other side to block him from the door.

“Have I made myself untrustworthy to you? There was once a time when we would tell each other anything, and I have been trying desperately to get it back. What have I done to lose your favor?”

Souda made to move past him but Gundham blocked his way again. He couldn’t think about this right now, he felt two seconds from either punching something or bursting into tears, and neither he wanted to do here. 

By now Gundham was practically shouting. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know!” Souda screamed back. “I don’t know what I want! Okay? I just—” He hid his face in his hands and let out a frustrated yell. The silence afterwards made his ears ring. After a few steadying breaths he emerged, “I’m just tired. I’m sure you are too. Sorry to bother.”

Gundham scoffed. “That’s the story to tell. I won’t let you get away with such a childish excuse. I am in fact wide awake now. If you have a problem with me, please, air it. I am all ears. You can let it  _ all  _ go.” He stood steadfast in the doorway, arms crossed, the frustration practically rippling off of him. 

If Gundham was looking for a fight, he did not get it. Souda gave up from his position of glaring past Gundham’s shoulder and instead dropped his forehead into it.

The only sounds in the apartment were the clicking of a distant clock and the hum of the refrigerator. Slowly Gundham untensed himself, then, hesitantly came to rest a hand on the back of Souda’s head. Souda let out a sigh that was perhaps closer to a sob, and, emboldened, Gundham wrapped his other arm around him as well, engulfing Souda into a hug as if he were going to disappear any moment. 

Souda did not cry. Perhaps he didn’t have any tears in him to do so, but the hug made him almost tremble. 

When Gundham finally spoke, his voice rumbled in his chest where Souda’s head was buried. “I have no engagements in the morning. Stay. Won’t you?”

And Souda nodded. 

Gundham’s arms ran down Souda’s and held his hands for balance as Souda kicked off his shoes where they stood. He started leading him back to the bed.

“I am sorry for—”

“I know. It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

He kicked off his pants and crawled under the thick duvet. As soon as his head hit the pillow he could feel himself melt into the bed, exhausted. The lights were turned off and Gundham crawled in right after. Before drifting off, Souda thought he felt a hand brush the hair off his forehead, and hesitate, only to retreat and roll over for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have some lyrics left to use, and I do have some ideas but haven't written any more at the moment. I'm sorry if you are waiting on the continuation, I will try to make it happen sometime, but no promises! >___<


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